The story of Bane
by RecklessDude
Summary: Told from the first person perspective of Bane. His struggles, his triumphs, his upbringing and key moments in his life. Please review if you want to see more!
1. Chapter 1 Vengeance of Bane

I am Bane. What follows is the story of my life, best as I can remember it.

The foundation of my destiny was laid out by a failed revolution before I was born. My father played a part in a failed coup against the government of Santa Prisca. He left behind my pregnant mother, a woman from the farms who got caught up in a man's false promises and outlandish dreams of a better life for her people. She was the only person in my life who has loved me. As I learned in my formative years, love is a weakness. I will always be grateful for her devotion to me when I was small and helpless, but it was her weakness that caused her to fall ill and die -long before her time.

My father, whomever he was, lacked the strength and willpower to win his battles. His lack of wisdom allowed him to start a war he could not possibly win. And his lack of courage meant that he never had to face the consequences of his failure. So the moment I was born, I faced the consequences for him. As was the law in Santa Prisca, -as his male heir, I was damned to a life of imprisonment for his crimes. And although I inherited his sentence, I am fortunate that I did not inherit his cowardice and stupidity.

I spent the first six years of my life in the protective custody area of Pena Dura. Pena Dura is amongst the toughest prisons on earth. My childhood took place in the protective custody area -the safest part of hell. The corridors were my playground. My only companion was a stuffed bear named Osito. He and I protected each other, told stories and played games together. The first time I learned about death was when Osito and I were hiding in the shadows. We saw another inmate bribe one of the guards to leave his post. As I watched from the darkness, the inmate who bribed the guard was able to meet with a friend, and the two of them ambushed and murdered a third inmate. One held him, while the other plunged a knife into his gut over and over. I stayed in the shadows too scared to breathe as blood pissed from the man's stomach until he stopped struggling. Surely they'd have killed me too had they known what I'd seen. I was fortunate that Osito was with me, otherwise I would surely have cried out and sealed my own fate.

My earliest memories are of my mother singing to me. She tried her best to keep my happy, and as far as I knew, our prison was the entire world. But I always knew that she was not happy. She knew that there was an outside world, and she knew that she would never see it again. That her son would never see it at all. This sadness ate away at her over the years and when I was six years old, she died -leaving me to fend for myself. The only other person who showed me decency at this stage in my life was another inmate, a man affectionately known as Zombie. He was a thin man, sickly looking who had in a previous life had gambled at making a fortune in the drug trade and lost. He had a sharp mind and would often smile and wave to me. He was allowed to work as a janitor near our cell. He was the only person to offer me sympathy when my mother died.

"I am sorry, little one." Zombie whispered to me as I felt his hand on my shoulder. "I told Dr. Ruger she was getting sick... but the man is an idiot."

"Why did she have to leave?" I asked Zombie.

He let out a sigh and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "These things happen. No one is forever."

I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I refused to cry. I needed to become as hard as the walls of this prison if I were to survive. The last time I was allowed to see my mother was when her lifeless corpse was tossed over the island cliff to the sharks below. I watched as my mother disappeared beneath the water, discarded like trash.

After her death, I was taken to see the warden. He was a pompous, cruel, sweaty man. He was fat with a moustache. From his position of power, he would do his best to make others miserable -to break them. His office stunk of cigar smoke, and behind his desk he had an oversized portrait of himself -just in case his arrogance and vanity wasn't apparent already. Hanging next to his desk was a spiked cage, perhaps used to torture prisoners in centuries past, now just used to intimidate six year old boys.

"Your mother has left you quite alone little one," he said to me with a smile that lacked any warmth. "She has left you without a single guardian but the state. But the state is no one's mother. You cannot expect the same treatment."

I stared at him blankly, unsure if I was expected to say anything.

"You must fend for yourself, little one!" he continued. "I am releasing you from protective custody and into general population. That is all." I was given a pillow, and two guards escorted me to my new cell with only Osito to keep me company.

At age six, my childhood was over, and I was expected to be a man.


	2. Chapter 2

At the age of six, my mother died. I was taken away from the safety of protective custody and placed into general population. Right away I knew that this area of the prison was different. It was dirtier, more dangerous. Two uniformed guards escorted me to my new cell. My new home. The other inmates leered at me and shouted obscenities as I walked past. I was the smallest, weakest person in the entire prison. Hands stretched out at me between the cell bars as I walked past, reaching for me. These were men with nothing to lose. Many of them would have beaten me to death for no reason but to pass the time. Others would have done worse things. Never in my life did I feel more helpless.

I clutched my stuffed bear Osito to feel safe. It felt like I was walking forever, a never ending hallway inside a cage. The hall seemed to get narrower, the outstretched hands seemed to get closer, and the taunts became more vulgar. Some of these men hated me for spending my infancy in protective custody while they suffered in general population -in their eyes I was unfairly born into privilege. Some of the men just wanted to attack somebody weaker than them -I have learned that this is a universal constant. The strong destroy the weak because that is the nature of the world. And some of these men were just mad and depraved, their motivations lacking any reason or forward thinking.

Finally I reached my cell. I sat in my new bed with Osito trying to process everything that had happened the last few days. My mother was dead. The warden and doctor showing me nothing but complete indifference. Now I was in general population expected to live amongst these monsters who had been reaching for me, taunting me. I sat in my bed shaking. The room was cold, far colder than my old room near the infirmary.

I thought of Zombie, the janitor and the only person who had ever shown me compassion. I wondered what he was doing right now. Would things have been different if Dr. Ruger had listened to Zombie and seen the signs of my mother's declining health? Would he have been able to save her? Would he have even cared?

After several minutes, I noticed the sound of breathing that was not my own. I took one last breath and hid myself under the covers. While I held my breath, the sound of the other man breathing continued, a nasty steady wheeze. Finally, I found the courage to peek from beneath my blanket, and look towards the sound. The breathing came from the cell next to mine. A man was leaning against the bars peering at me. He was bald and fat, with a chest full of hair and sweat glistening from his skin despite the cold. A gold chain dangled from his ear to a ring in his nose. His eyes were cruel. I knew he was evil.

"Come closer," he beckoned to me. "Do not fear me, I will protect you from the others."

I didn't come closer. Instead I clutched Osito tighter and tried to shut his words out. I couldn't.

"In this place you must have friends," he continued. "We will become good friends tomorrow," he promised me.

Only after the man retreated back into the shadows of his own cell did I dare to breathe again. My eyes welled up with tears again for the first time since my mother died, -and again I refused to cry. My mind was racing -what did this man want with me? What would he _do_ to me? I closed my eyes and tried to will myself to die in my sleep.

The next morning I woke, and felt a wave of despair wash over me that I did not die like my mother. My cell door was opened and I was told to go downstairs to the mess hall for breakfast. I gripped Osito, he would come with me. I was in the adult world now, and Osito was my only friend. Slowly I made my way towards the stairs. Other men were wandering about, and unlike yesterday, nobody was paying much interest to me, the boy with a stuffed bear. Perhaps they were still tired from a restless night? Perhaps they had their fill of cruelty from taunting me yesterday? Perhaps the only thing on their mind right now was breakfast. I allowed myself a moment to relax a little. Perhaps my new life in general population would not be so bad after all.

Before I reached the stairs I felt a hand grip my shoulder. I turned around and swallowed, hard. It was the man from last night, the man from the cell next to mine! He was closer now and he was touching me. I could smell the stink coming from his body as he pulled me toward him into a hug.

"We will become friends today, eh?" he sneered reminding me of his promise from last night.

I froze, unsure of how to respond. His eyes bulged as he leered at me, and smiled his perverse grin. He leaned down towards me, the stink of his breath even worse than the smell of his body.

"You would like to work for me, would you not, child?" he whispered to me.

I was too scared to respond. After a few terrifying moments of being stared down by this man, another voice responded to him. A low gravelly voice, so unlike my own.

"The boy does not want your filthy hand on him Puerco," said the second man, addressing my tormentor by name.

"What business is it of yours, eh?" Puerco responded, his hand still gripping my shoulder.

"_Everything_ on this block is my business," the second man responded.

Puerco's grip on me loosened and I was able to turn to see my savoir. He was a large man, his chest was broad and his arms were thick. His face was ugly, by far the ugliest man I'd seen my life. He had small piercing eyes, and a large flat nose that had been misshapen by years of violence. He towered over Puerco, in some ways he was even more terrifying.

"Release him," the man demanded.

"He's mine, Trogg!" Puerco screamed back, refusing to let me go. "One so small as this can slip beneath the notice of the guards. He will be useful to me."

Trogg would not back down. He stepped forward. "I said release him!" His swung his fist forward, slamming it into Puerco's chin in a vicious uppercut.

Puerco stumbled back, but he still gripped my shoulder. He groaned from the punch, then collapsed. His gigantic weight pushed me toward the end of the landing. As Puerco fell, his shoulder slammed into my gut. My head smacked against the railing and I lost my footing.

Pena Dura was not built with children in mind. The railing would support an adult, but a small child could slip through the bars. As I lost my footing, I tumbled and reached up to grab something -anything. I screamed in panic as the realisation hit me. In the scuffle, I'd been pushed between the bars of the railing and had fallen from the platform. I was falling for three stories. I remember the ground rushing up at me. I don't remember the impact of hitting the floor below.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up in the pitch black. How long had I been lying there? The last thing I remember was being pushed from the landing and falling three stories to the hard floor below. I slowly stood up. My whole body felt weightless. Was I dead? It was certainly possible. My teddy bear Osito lay on the floor next to me. I looked around, the darkness seemed to stretch out forever. Where was I?

"Can anyone hear me?" I shouted out into the dark. No response. I stood there for several moments, unsure what to do.

I reached down to scoop up Osito, but before I could touch him, a ball of yellow light started to glow in the distance. I froze. It seemed the only things in all of existence were myself, Osito and this strange light source. I wondered if I should investigate. Was it one of the guards looking for me, to help me? Or could the light lead to Puerco, finally coming to kill me?

Then the strangest thing happened. Osito, all of his own accord, stood up on his own two feet and started to waddle towards the light.

My mouth hung open in awe. I loved Osito, but even as a child I must have known that he was an inanimate toy. We'd been on many adventures together, but they had all been imaginary. And here he was, standing up for the first time by himself and walking. His pace picked up as he marched towards the light, his body swaying and he moved.

"Osito!" I called out to him, but he did not stop, not even slow down. "Where are you going Osito?"

I started to run towards him, I did not want to be left alone in the dark.

By the time I caught up to him, we had reached the light source, and it seemed even brighter still. Osito stood staring at the light with his button eyes, but I had to turn away, it was like staring at the sun. Intense heat radiated from the light.

"It hurts..." I mumbled. "Is someone there?"

"Only yourself," a deep, powerful voice boomed back toward me. The light dimmed slightly and I could make out the shape of a man standing in front of me, the light seemed to radiate from his body. He was enormous, larger than Puerco -larger even than Trogg. His face was stern and he stood tall. His shoulders and arms were broad and defined with thick muscle. I'd never seen anyone who looked so powerful.

"Only myself?" I repeated back to him. "But _you _are here!"

"We are one." He responded. "I am as you will be many years from now."

"You are _me_?" I asked in shock, trying to fathom what he was telling me. I wondered again if the fall had killed me, or rendered me insane.

"I am what you will become," he continued. " A physical and mental paragon. The living embodiment of human superiority. The blood of kings runs in you. The blood of your father."

I gasped. My mother never mentioned my father. I'd never even known I had one.

"The world is yours and will _be_ yours one day," the man continued. "Men will be like cattle before you. Like sheep. For only a few may rule the many and you are one of a rare breed. Only one danger stands in the way of your mastering the world."

"What is that?" I asked him.

"Fear." He replied. "The fear that lies at the heart. Only this can keep you from what is yours."

In the distance I began to hear a beating, thumping sound. I felt wind against my face as the large man raised an arm and pointed, directing my gaze to the source of the beating wind. A huge bat swooped from the darkness. I'd seen bats before, sometimes they found their way inside the prison where I grew up, but I'd never seen one so big. It was far larger than me, and almost as large as the man who now stood behind me. I stepped back in terror. The light radiating from the large man reflected back at me from the bat's eyes, two glowing pinpricks in the dark. The bat let out a high pitched screech as it swooped down to me. I ducked, pressing my body to the floor, narrowly avoiding its jaws as they snapped at me. I looked around, there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

"Conquer the fear in your heart and you may have anything you desire," the man continued, paying no notice to the giant bat that had now circled back around. "You will be second to no man and master of all."

The bat flapped its wings again and let out another screech. I looked back for help, hoping that the man would protect me from this monster. I gasped as he was gone. The light was gone, but the bat's eyes continued to glow. The bat's lips pulled back revealing giant fangs, then began to fly towards me again. I'd never felt so small, so weak, so alone. How could that huge man claim to be me? How could I ever grow to become as strong and fearless as him?

As the monstrous bat flew toward me again, I began to run. The bat was faster than I was. I could hear the leather wings beating against the air around us, hear the noise grow louder as he closed the distance. My legs weren't strong enough, and I stumbled as the bat grew closer. My legs betrayed me and I tripped as the bat drew closer still. My body pressed against the floor and the bat was on me.

"No!" I screamed out as the black wings wrapped around me.

Suddenly my body no longer felt light. It was heavy and pain throbbed from my head. "No!" I screamed again and suddenly the light returned -but it was different from before. It wasn't concentrated in a ball, wasn't surrounding a large man. This time the light came from a fluorescent globe above me and lit up the room around me. I was back in Pena Dura, in the infirmary. Osito was in bed next to me.

I gasped as I opened my eyes -this had all been a dream. There was no bat, no man, no ball of light. I wasn't lying in the dark, but in a bed in the infirmary. I reached up to touch the pain in my throbbing head, and I felt bandages wrapped tightly around my head. Gradually, my racing heart slowed down and I tried to steady my breath.

"Welcome back, little one!" a familiar voice called out to me. I sat up in the bed and saw that it was Zombie, leaning against his broom He must have been on cleaning duties again. His face was a welcome sight.

"What happened?" I asked him. "Why am I here?"

"You had a fall," he replied. "You've been asleep for thirty-one days." He let out a small chuckle, "you missed your own birthday!"

I touched my bandages again. "How did this happen?"

"There was a fight and you got knocked through the railing."

"Puerco..." I remembered. Slowly it was all coming back to me.

"Yes..." Zombie agreed, his eyes filled with pity. "He is a vile man. He has taken a liking to you."

"There was another man too..." I remembered out loud.

"Yes, that was Trogg."

"Is he a good man?" I asked.

Zombie paused for a moment. "I don't think there is a single good man in this entire prison." He pointed a thumb at his prison uniform. "None of _us_. And certainly none of the staff," he added with disgusted snort. "As for Trogg... Trogg has killed more than thirty men. Most of them right here is this prison."

My eyes went wide in response. More than thirty men? To my child mind, thirty was an incalculable number. I'd never counted thirty of anything!

"I don't like to scare you," Zombie continued. "But you live in the general population now. This is the reality of life. It's best you understand these things. Trogg is at the top of the food chain because he's the biggest, the strongest. Being king is a position that is wanted by many but can be held only by one. If he wants to stay the boss, he needs everyone else to know he's in charge. He doesn't like seeing children get hurt, so he stepped in to protect you from Puerco. He needs Puerco to understand that he's the one in charge."

I inwardly shuddered at the mention of Puerco's name. I knew now that I was awake I knew I'd have to go back to my cell. The cell with Puerco next to me. I knew that Trogg couldn't protect me forever.

Zombie leaned in to look at me closer. "Well, you seem to be alert and awake. No serious damage as far as I can see. I'd best go and get Dr. Ruger, he will want to look over you... for all the good it will do being checked on by that idiot."

"Dr. Ruger..." I said, anger welling up inside me. "Why didn't he save my mother?"

Zombie let out a sigh. "He didn't see the signs until it was too late." He pointed over to a half empty bottle of alcohol on the doctor's desk. "He's more concerned with his next drink than the health of anyone here."

"He always smells," I said wrinkling my nose.

"That, he does." Zombie let out a chuckle. "He stinks of cheap red wine and cigarettes. But you don't need good hygiene to be a doctor, especially not here of all places. Any half decent doctor would have found a job somewhere else. But at any rate, he's the man in charge of the infirmary. I'm just the humble janitor, so I'd best go get him." He gave me a reassuring wink then left the room.

After he left, I stepped down to the floor, scooped up Osito and paced around the room. I picked up the bottle from his desk and looked at it with disgust. How could a man be dependant on a substance and still call himself a man? Even at so young an age, I knew that addiction was a terrible thing.

Out of curiosity and opportunity, I slid open the drawer of Ruger's desk. Inside were papers, bits of junk and a small knife. The knife immediately caught my eye.

_Puerco... _I thought to myself. I knew that I would have to go back to my cell... have to face him again. I was lucky to be alive after my fall. How could I survive something so horrible, then be expected to go and live next to that monster? I thought back to the large man from my dream, the man who claimed to be me. He'd said that fear was the only thing that could stop me. That I would have to conquer my fears. I was scared of Puerco.

Slowly I picked up the knife, and dragged it down Osito's back. The brown felt parted for the knife, and white stuffing spilled out. I grabbed a handful of stuffing and discarded it into the waste basket next to Ruger's desk. I placed the knife carefully inside Osito where I had created space for it. Osito had always been my companion and protector, I knew that he wouldn't mind.

I heard footsteps approaching the infirmary, surely Dr. Ruger was returning. I quickly made my way back to the bad and lay down, placing Osito next to me. I raised my finger to my lips, making a shushing motion to Osito. It was going to be our secret that we had taken the knife.

My appointment with Dr. Ruger was brief. He removed my bandages, did a few tests on my eyes and reflexes, replaced my bandages and sent me on my way. He said that while I was very lucky to be alive, I'd almost made a full recover. The worst of the short term effects of the fall were over, and any long term effects would remain to be seen.

My mind wandered when he mentioned the long term effects. Was it possible that the fall could have put me on a different path? Changed me somehow? I must admit, I did feel different. Prior to my fall I'd have been too scared to rummage through the doctor's desk and steal one of his personal items. Now I was sneakier, more resourceful. Was that because of the fall, had something changed inside me? Or was it because of my strange encounter with the bat and the man in my dream? Had they changed me? Or perhaps I was merely growing up. I was now seven years old, after all.

Just like on my first day in general population, two guards escorted my back to my cell. This time the jeering taunts of the other men didn't bother me. When I returned to my cell, Puerco didn't bother me, he was already asleep. I lie awake in bed until everyone on my cell block was asleep and the only sound was snoring. I removed the knife from Osito and walked up to the bars separating my cell from Puerco's.

Again, the prison was not built with children in mind. I breathed out deeply, -and with a little effort, I was able to squeeze my body between the bars that separated my cell from his. I smiled as I watched him stir a little in his sleep. My heart was racing. I was standing in my neighbour's cell.


	4. Chapter 4

I was a small child, and with a little effort I was small enough to squeeze through the bars of my cell and into Puerco's.

I was somewhere I was not supposed to be, I should have been scared. But surviving the fall had changed me -I was not afraid in the slightest. I gripped the knife in my hand and watched the Puerco's gut rise and fall as he snored. I thought of the man from my dream, the physical and mental powerhouse who claimed that I was destined to become him. Was it some divine sign from God? Or had the fall damaged me somehow, made me delusional and mad? I was changed certainly. I could feel it.

Since waking up in Ruger's infirmary, I felt the fires of determination being stoked withing me. I _would_ become that man. It knew it would not be easy. After all, if it being the strongest, the _best_ was easy, everyone would have done it already. Only the few may rule the many. Only the few had the drive inside their hearts to better themselves, to grow stronger and learn something every day. Only a minority of men have the passion to strive for something beyond meritocracy. Meritocracy is good enough for most men, but it was not good enough for me.

I was told in my dream that I had to conquer fear. I had to face Puerco. Face him, or be bullied by him forever -forced into a life of servitude for this lecherous man.

I felt anger swell inside me. It was his fault I'd fallen. I could have died!

"Are you sleeping?" I called out to him.

"Que?" he muttered in response. Then his eyes opened and he saw me standing before him. I sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Child? I thought you had died.." his words were slow and confused, his fatigue still evident.

"The child _is_ dead, Peurco." I responded. "But I am here. Do you still want me to work for you?" I stepped forward, a shaft of light from the moon beaming down into the cell. It was then that Peurco must have seen the knife. His twisted grin turned to a look of fear. I lunged forward.

Peurco reached up to shove me back, but he was too slow. By the time his hand slammed into my chest to shove me back, I'd already buried the knife into his fat gut. With my other hand, I'd already grasped hold of his gold chain, the chain that ran from his nose ring to his earlobe. When he shoved me back, the chain came with me.

He screamed in agony as the chain tore through his nose and ear. I grinned as the golden trophy dangled in my small hand. He raised both hands feeling at his nose, his ear. He needed to confirm what he already knew, that a child had just ripped the jewellery from his face. He was so shocked by my antics with his chain, that he must have already forgotten about the knife I'd rammed into his stomach. While both his hands were clasping his face, I darted forward and stabbed at him with the knife again and again.

I had no idea there was so much blood inside a human body. His bedsheets were soaked scarlet and the blood just kept coming. Without even thinking I kept stabbing, only slowing to avoid his fists as he swung back in futile defiance. He flopped from the bed onto the floor, spraying warm blood on my face as he did so. Now I worked the knife into his back. Each breath sprayed more blood from his mouth, from his chest. I kept stabbing for quite a while after he stopped moving.

Eventually, fatigue set in and I could swing the knife no more. I saw lights down the hall and heard footsteps. Puerco's screams must have alerted the guards. I dropped the knife. Naively, I squeezed back through the bars to my own cell, in some futile effort to deny what I had just done, but I felt a trail of bloody footprints behind. I was undone by Puerco's blood on my face and soaked into my small prison jumpsuit. It did not take much detective work to identify me as the killer.

The warden himself was woken and summoned to my cell. "It was the boy!" said the warden as he nodded in agreement to the guard's assessment. "By God, he has turned feral!"

I could say nothing in response. What would be the use of denying it now?

"I will not have such abominations in my prison," the warden continued as he pointed an accusing finger at me. "He is a bane to everything holy!"

I smiled. I liked the sound of that word. _Bane._ One syllable that sounded so powerful. Very well. From now on, that will be my name.

"The weapon..." one of the guards began as he held up the knife, "it is covered in blood, as the boy is."

They tried to cuff my, but the chains hung loose around my tiny hands. "The chains are to big..." another guard stated.

The warded glared at me. He knew he needed to assert some authority over this situation. But I was already serving a life sentence, he could not extend my time in this prison any further. He needed to punish me somehow. "Throw him in the _Cavidad Oscuro_," he finally said. "The chains will fit snug before he sees the light of the sun again."

"I spoke with my mother last night," I shot back at him. "She says they stoke a special fire for you."

"Throw him in the hole!" the warden screamed back at me, enraged by my insolence. "He will have hair on his chest before I release him!"

With the chains hanging loosely around my wrists, I was marched down the hall past the other prisoners before reaching the stairs. This time there were no taunts, no hands grabbing out at me. I saw a few nods of respect. We passed the behemoth Trogg, the man who tried to protect me from Puerco earlier. He shot me a grin as he nodded.

I was taken down, past all the cells, past the mess hall, past the administration office. I was marched through a cellar where I saw the biggest rats I'd ever seen. One of them scurried over a guards shoe, fearless. I snickered as the guard recoiled. Finally we reached a narrow corridor that led to a heavy iron door.

It was explained to me that I would be spending the next decade of my life in the small room that lay beyond the door. I would not see another soul for this entire time. Many men had grown mad from the isolation or died in this room. I was told that twice a day, a small latch would reveal an opening and a tray of food and water would be passed through. I was informed that the food would be minimal, and that I should get used to being hungry. I was told that dogs would eat better than I would. I was informed that after my meals arrive, I would have one hour to return the empty tray to the latch to be collected. On the day that I failed to return the tray, I would be assumed dead, and no more food or water would come thereafter. If that happened, they would not open the heavy door until they need the Cavidad Oscuro again -which may not be for a hundred years. I was warned that there might be water leakage, as I was going to be living below sea level, but that the water was nothing to concern myself with, as there was a grate on the floor for it to drain into. It was recommended that I defecate into the grate, if I did not wish to live with ten years of my own waste.

With that, the heavy door was unlocked and I was shoved into the room.


	5. Chapter 5

With the scraping sound of iron against stone, the door slammed shut behind me.

I looked around the small room that was now my home, and would probably be my tomb. The With the scraping sound of iron against stone, the door slammed shut behind me.

I looked around the small room that was now my home, and would probably be my tomb. The _Cavidad Oscuro_ was only a few paces wide. It was a much smaller cell than my previous dwelling. The whole room smelt of seawater. I had been told that my new cell sometimes experienced light flooding due to being below sea level, but that it was nothing to worry about. Above me was a steel grate, and directly below it in the centre of the floor was another steel grate. A few more small grates were set into the walls. The room was only illuminated by the faintest sunlight beaming down from above, filtered through shadows and misery. After my eyes had adjusted, I could barely make out the whole tiny room.

I collapsed against the stone wall. This was it. For the next ten years of my life, I would never leave this room. Never see another face or hear another voice. I sat in silence. It could have been minutes or hours, it was impossible for me to tell. I was afraid that I was already starting to go mad.

Eventually, the sun dropped and was replaced with moonlight, the room growing dimmer still. I felt the strangest feeling, something swelling inside me. My heart raced, and I was filled with feeling. Emotion that I had not allowed myself ever since my fall from the railing. I was scared, and sad. I knew that to survive I needed to become hard like these walls. Strong like the man from my dream. But I was not hard or strong. I was a small, soft, scared boy who was locked in a tiny room. I knew that I would die here. I breathed deep, tried to control my emotions. But with nobody around to see, my weakness won out and I allowed myself the luxury of tears.

Slowly the tears welled in my eyes before streaming down my cheeks.

"Mother..." I whispered. "Mother, come back..."

There was no response. I stared at the wall in front of me and sobbed.

"Mother, I need you!" I cried out again. "Mother! Mother, I'm scared!"

The walls around me did not care that my mother was dead. They did not care that I was alone and terrified. They did not care that I was hungry.

The people who might have brought me comfort -Osioto, Zombie and the strong man from my dreams were nowhere to be seen. They could not save me.

I gasped as I heard a chirping noise from above. I stared up at the grate in the ceiling. I couldn't see it, but I recognised the noise of a bat. Was it the demon bat from my dreams? Had this creature somehow clawed its way into reality to kill me? I heard a splashing sound from the grate in the floor. It was the ocean below me. Of course.

The guards had warned me that the cell could flood with seawater. As the temperature of night dropped, the water rose. I heard a small ticking noise. Faint at first, but drawing closer. I held my breath, wondering if something was in the cell with me. The ticking grew closer, louder. I let out a sharp cry as I felt something sharp pierce my toe.

I looked down and saw the culprit. A crab had made its way up from the grate, the ticking sound was it's spider legs as they made their way across the stone floor and the pain was it's sharp pincers on my feet. I was an intruder, and it was testing me.

With agony, I pulled the crab away from my feet, and hurled it against wall. A small trickle of blood came from my toe where it pinched me. I clenched my hand into a fist as I heard the ticking footsteps draw toward me again. I was only a small boy, but I could certainly kill one crab. The ticking grew louder and I squinted my eyes in the dark, trying to make out the shape of the crab drawing closer.

The ticking grew louder and more frequent. I couldn't see the crab, but the sound was deafening. Had it somehow grown giant? Where was it?

When my eyes finally adjusted I let out a gasp. The crab wasn't alone. From the grate in the floor, there were now dozens of them, crawling out from between the bars making their way towards me. Their pincers snapped at the air and their legs scraped against the floor.

There was a small ledge running around the perimeter of the room. Carefully, I climbed onto it. The army of crabs marched around the room snapping futility at the air. I knew that if I stepped down from the ledge I might die a death of a thousand cuts. But the crabs could not climb. I was safe.

Eventually, the clicking of the crabs against the stone floor was drowned out the splashing sound of the seawater rising through the grate. On the safety of the small ledge, I let out a cry as something small scampered over my foot. I looked down and saw a rat. It looked up at me and hissed. I pressed my small body against the wall in terror. I thought of the irony of earlier, when I laughed at the guard for being startled by a rat. Now a rat -possibly even the same one, hand come to terrorise me.

There were bats in the grate above me. Crabs scampering about on the stone floor. And now a fat, ugly rat hissing at me, near my foot. It's eyes glimmered at me in the dark, no doubt infuriated that I had the gall the share this stone ledge with it.

The rat pulled back its lips, revealing tiny sharp teeth. Mother had told me that rats were dirty and diseased. I was confident that I could kill a single crab. They moved slowly and awkwardly. But rats were fast, agile and nasty. This rat had no fear. It's legs coiled as it prepared to jump at me. I clenched my fist again.

I could see my fate. The rat would lunge at me, biting me, infecting me with disease. I would then fall the the floor where I would be torn apart by the army of crabs.

Before the rat could leap at me, I heard the crash of water and felt salt spray against my face. The tide was rising. Cold water pooled around my feet. The rat knew that the water was rising. The tide was my salvation. The rat gave me one last nasty look, then made it's way towards the door of my cell. It flattened it's body against the floor, and impossibly squeezed its way under the door into freedom. I small, but not small enough to do the same.

I shivered as the salt water pooled around my feet. I shifted nervously as I felt it at my knees. I began to panic as I felt it at my waist. The guards had told me not to worry about the water. That the grate in the floor would drain it. As the water reached my armpits, then my neck, I realised that it was a sick joke. This entire cell would flood to the ceiling. They sent me here to die.

I'd never swam before. I didn't know how. My body bobbed as I felt the water continue to pour into my cell. I felt a fish brush past my legs. It became more difficult to stand. I struggled to keep my head above the water as it poured in. I tripped and felt my hair get wet. Desperately, I wedged my fingers into the mortar between the bricks in the wall. The water was now too deep to stand in, so I would try to rise with it.

Minute by minute, I worked my way up the wall as the water rose. Sometimes my head would fall beneath the surface and I'd breath in the salt water. When I could, I wedged my fingers between cracks in the wall. I worked my legs hard to stay above the waves. I'd never had to tread water before, but I was learning now. Either I would keep up or die.

After hours of this, my legs ached, my fingers were chapped. I dared not leave the safety of the wall. But it my head dropped below the surface more frequently now, my mouth burned with the taste of salt.

Once more my body dropped below the surface. I was learning to predict the waves. This time I held my breath. I kicked my feet hard to propel my body toward the surface once again. I saw a large crack in the brick wall, a crack that had been far to high to reach hours ago. Now it was within grabbing distance.

I wedged my bloody fingers into the crack and allowed my arm to take the weight of my body, finally giving my overworked legs the chance to relax. When the water rose further, I kicked my legs once more, and I cried out in pain and surprise as my head bounced against the stone ceiling of the room. My new home was now completely full with water.

The pain from bumping my head sent me below the waves. My body sunk downward. I saw the fish circling me and the army of crabs still circling the grate in the floor. The fish and crabs were taunting me.

I gave my legs another almighty kick, this time using my arms as well. I was no longer gripping the wall, so my arms could be used to send my body upward toward the surface -toward air.

Ignoring the searing pain, I forced my body upward. The bump and the fall had driven me toward the centre of the room. The wall was now too far away to reach. My legs were slowing down. I looked up, not wanting to bump my head against the stone ceiling again. I saw the steel grate in the roof. I reached up the grate. It was just out of my reach.

I knew that if I could reach the bars of the grate, I could dangle with both arms. The air in my chest would keep me afloat, the bars of the grate would keep me anchored, and I could give my burning legs some much needed rest. I only had to survive until the bars were within my reach.

I was tempted to give up. To just let myself fall beneath the water, to just embrace the release of death. To let the rats and crabs feast on my corpse. I thought back to my mother. She had given up. Sharks had devoured her corpse. Would that really be so bad.

Then I thought back to the large man from my dream, the man I was destined to become. Surely he didn't grow so large without being tested many times over. He had not grown so fierce by living an easy life. He'd grown into a physical and mental powerhouse by defeating one challenge after another. This night in the flooded cell was my first challenge. The warden had thrown me here to die. I would not give him that satisfaction. I would grow into the man from my vision.

Even if the door to this cell never opened, even if I never saw another face for the rest of my life, I was determined to humiliate the men who had thrown me here. I would humiliate them by surviving. By eating every meal they pushed through the slot in the door, until I eventually died as an old man. The first step was to reach those bars.

Inch by inch, the water rose and I kicked my way closer to the grate. Sometimes I would fall and be punished by a mouthful of sea water. Eventually I prevailed and my fingers wrapped around the cold bars. Salvation.

My small body went limp as the water gushed around me. My tiny muscles burned and I realised I'd forgotten how cold the water was. I dangled from the bars for hours, the pain in my fingers was nothing compared to my legs, which I could no longer move even if I'd wanted to.

I had swallowed too much seawater. As I hung from the grate, I vomited all over myself.

The water began to drop. Slowly, it dropped to my waist. Then my knees. Then below my feet. Now my arms were burning. I held onto the bars until I could no longer. I splashed back below the water as my arms gave out. I saw the chunks of my vomit floating around as I was submerged again, baptised by the salt water.

My arms hung by my side limply, but now my legs were rested. Again I kicked my way toward the surface, working up a rhythm.

I don't remember when the water disappeared back down the grate. I don't remember collapsing down onto the stone floor.

But I did not die that night. I should have, but somehow I prevailed. By the time the water was gone, I had collapsed into a small heap of exhaustion. Somehow, against the odds, I made it through the first night in the cavidad oscuro. Somehow, I had survived.


	6. Chapter 6

I continued running down the endless black hallway. The giant demonic bat was bearing down on me. In my short life, I'd never felt terror like this before. I could feel the wind from it's beating wings growing stronger. As I ran, my legs continued to throb with exhaustion. I bobbed my head to narrowly avoid its snapping jaws. In the distance was a large man with his back turned. If only I could make it to the man, he could protect me.

I ran faster, pushing myself through the fatigue. The man slowly turned as I approached. I stopped dead in my tracks. I'd hoped it was the strong man from my earlier vision -the man who I was destined to grow into, but it was not him. It was the vile pervert Puerco! Blood flowed freely from his enormous gut and the holes in his face where I'd torn his chain out.

"Come closer little one," he sneered at me.

I stopped dead in my tracks, and in that instant the giant bat was on me. The wings closed around me and it sunk its giant fangs into my throat. I knew this was it. The fangs sunk so deep that they scraped against the bones in my neck -the most horrible scraping sound.

As I screamed I opened my eyes, and I was back in my cell. It had been another dream, but the scraping sound persisted.

I looked toward the source of the noise and just as promised, a slot in the door opened and a tray was pushed through. The scraping was the metal tray against the stone floor.

On the tray was a pitcher of water and a bowl of something slimy and grey. I held the pitcher greedily to my mouth as I drank the fresh water. My mouth had never felt so dry. I drank almost the whole pitcher without taking a breath. After my thirst was quenched, my heart finally started to slow down from my nightmare about the bat.

The grey substance was a tasteless gruel -this was to be my sustenance for the day. It was not enough. I had spent most of the last night treading water when my cell flooded. The same thing was almost certain to happen tonight. My body felt like a wreck. Every muscle still burned. My hands were scabbed over from where I desperately clutched every nook and cranny on the walls. My palms had formed thick callouses from when I dangled from the ceiling grate for hours. Perhaps it would be better if I just lay down and let the water take me?

I had not been given any utensils to eat the grey slop, so I ran my fingers around the bowel to finish it. It was not nearly enough, and my stomach still growled with hunger.

I heard a slapping noise against the stone floor as the last of the seawater drained down into the grate. A fish had become stranded. When the water drained from my cell, the unfortunate fish had become stranded and had not been able to make it back to the ocean. I looked around and counted two more fish. After enduring the flooding of my cell the previous night, it seems I had been rewarded with three fish.

They did not look especially appetising, but my body needed _something_. I barely had enough strength to stand, and I knew that the terror I survived was just the first night of a ten year confinement. I would have to eat the fish if I were to have the strength to make it through another night.

I walked cautiously over to the first fish. It was raw. The scales sliced at my young face as I sunk my teeth into its slimy body. The meat tasted bitter, but I could feel my body thanking me as the hunger pangs began to fade. The fish's head stunk and I refused to eat it. I discarded the skeleton on the floor and begun to devour the second fish. By the time I had finished, I was thankful that the third fish had stopped moving. It had given up the futile effort of fighting for its life, and was now lying motionless in a puddle of water.

As I begun to consume the third fish, I imagined my mother standing next to me. She would have been so proud of me. Against all odd I had survived through the night, and I was no building my strength for the nights that lay ahead.

"I don't like fish mother," I said to her. "I don't like how it bleeds."

My meal was disgusting and my face was a mess. But I felt stronger. I pushed the tray back towards the slot in the door. I remembered the importance of returning the tray. Failure to return it would indicate to the warden that I was dead. And I was not ready to die yet.

I noticed that one of the bricks in the wall had cracked. Over the years, the water had worked the crack bit by bit, and now it looked quite weak. I worked my finger into the crack and the brick crumbled. I was able to pull a piece of it out. I held the stone in my hand, satisfied with my new weapon.

I needed rest, but I feared the idea of going back to sleep. I knew that if I slept, the bat from my nightmares would return.

I wondered if it would be possible to rest my body but keep my mind alert. Why not try? The only commodity I had now was time. I sat against the stone floor and closed my eyes. My body relaxed, and I did nothing but slowly and steadily breathe. I didn't know it at the time, but I was meditating.

As I sat there, deep in meditation, I began to feel -for the first time in a very long time, relaxed. I sat for hours, alone with my thoughts. My body was able to slowly heal itself from last night's intense exercise. I focused on the sound around me. The dripping water, the wind howling above me. I breathed in the smell of the seawater and the stink of the fish carcasses that littered my cell. Eventually I heard the scrape of the tray being collected. I could feel my focus growing stronger, becoming more aware of everything in my cell.

After a few more hours, I heard the most curious sound. It was soft, barely noticeable, but the more focused I became, the more obvious it was. A soft, scurrying sound followed by the occasional high pitched squeaking. I cautiously opened my eyes and saw that it was my nemesis from the night before. The rat.

The rat lazily made its way across the cell to where I had discarded the fish. I watched as a second rat squeezed under the door to follow it's friend. The feasted on the fish heads I discarded. Slowly, I picked up the stone I had pulled from the wall.

Whatever meat I had left on the fish was picked clean by the two rats. Now they made their way towards me. The sickly little boy that had invaded _their_ home. They sniffed the air as they approached. The first rat hissed at me, remembering me from the previous night. I didn't move. Growing bolder, they padded their way closer -no doubt getting ready to attack.

In one swift motion I lunged forward and brought the stone down on the head of the first rat. The rat's body made a crunching noise as it was crushed against the floor. The second rat let out a scream and scrambled for the door. I smiled as I bashed the stone down on the first rat again and again. Satisfied and curious, I picked the rat's lifeless body up by the tail and inspected it's crushed remains. This was the second life I had taken. I felt strong for it. I flung the rat into the grate on the floor and heard it splash into the water below.

I sat on the ledge and swung my legs in boredom. A few hours later the tray arrived to my cell again and I had more water and more tasteless, unsatisfying gruel. Soon after, I saw water trickling from the grates in the wall. My heart raced when I knew the flood was coming again. I knew I faced death again. My legs were still tired from the night before, but I was better fed than yesterday. Two servings of gruel and three fish. I glanced at the grate on the floor. If I survived tonight, I would have to try eating crab sometime. Maybe even rat. Maybe.

Over the next few hours, the cell flooded again. This time, I studied where the cracks in the wall were to best support myself. This time I tried to remember not to swallow any sea water. Vomiting up my dinner like yesterday was most certainly _not_ an efficient use of the energy it provided. This time, I was able to make my way to the ceiling grate without bumping my head against the stone. Again I dangled from the grate for as long as my arms could bare before dropping back into the water. It was difficult, it was exhausting, but this time I knew the routine. I had now survived for _two_ nights in my cell. My muscles still burned, but this time I didn't vomit. This time I was still conscious as I watched the water drain away down the floor grate. Slowly, -very slowly, I was improving. I was surviving.

I knew the secret now. Do not focus on the next ten years. Focus only on tomorrow. If I could survive this cell one day at a time, the years would melt away by themselves.

After the water disappeared down the grate again, I meditated once more. I meditated for as long as I could... until the exhaustion won out and I was asleep again. When I slept, the bat from my nightmares was waiting for me. This time the bat chased me off the island cliff into the ocean below where I was torn apart by the sharks. I woke up screaming in a cold sweat, ate my gruel once more and the day started over.

This time, there was only one fish for me to eat. A small one. It did not fill my belly like the three yesterday. Tomorrow there might be none. I knew that the gruel I was given would not satisfy me, and there was no guarantee on any given day that the fish would strand themselves when the tide went back down. I knew the steps I'd need to take to continue surviving. I would need to learn how to swim instead of merely treading water. I would need to learn how to hunt the fish while they were in my cell instead of relying on them to strand themselves.

I paced around the cell waiting for the tide to return. My stomach growled. I'd only eaten half of the small fish. The meat hadn't been any more appetising than yesterday, but it was sustenance. My stomach desperately wanted me to eat the other half, but I couldn't. I'd need it for my trap. As the sun rose, the stink of the fish wafted through my cell, almost making my gag.

I gripped the stone I'd pulled from the wall. Soon I was rewarded for my patience. Another rat squeezed its way under the door, unable to resist the smell of the fish. Like yesterday, I brought the stone crashing down, killing the rat instantly. I felt my appetite disappear as I tried my best to pluck the fur away from the rat's body. Once I was able to build up my nerve, I bit into the body of the rat, sinking my teeth into the foul meat. I ate as much as I could bear, then tossed the rest down the grate into the ocean.

I silently promised myself that rat meat would only be food when I was truly desperate. I'd do my best to catch fish and crabs when they were available.

I sat back against the stone wall of my cell. I thought back to Zombie's words when my mother had died a few days ago. _No one is forever._

"Mother," I whispered, "if no one is forever... then why am I still here?"


	7. Chapter 7

Each new day began with a boring, unsatisfying meal pushed into my cell. Each night consisted of me treading water as the ocean flooded my cell and I climbed toward the bars in the ceiling.

My greatest fear was falling asleep. If I fell asleep, the bat from my nightmares would be waiting for me. The bat would pursue me anywhere, there was no hiding from my tormentor. Sometimes the bat would tear me apart in an endless room of pitch black. Sometimes the bat would chase me around the island of Pena Dura until I tumbled down the cliff to the sharks below. Sometimes it would burst through the bars of the ceiling and drown me as the room flooded. Each night, the idea of falling asleep and facing the bat terrified me. The little sleep I did get left me feeling restless and unsatisfied.

In order to rest myself without the need for sleep, I continued to practice meditation. Sometimes I would imagine my mother sitting in the cell with me, singing or brushing my hair. After I lost track of the days, my hair started to grow long and I knew I had been inside the cell for quite a while.

I knew that my continued survival relied on me strengthening my body. I trained myself by doing push ups. At first, I could not do many at all. But each day I would try again, doing more and more. With weak arms, I pushed my small body up and down against the stone floor. Just as the tide would rise and fall as it flooded my cell, I'd push my body upward and downward, little by little growing stronger.

"We go up and down, mother." I said as I strained myself against the floor. "Up and down. Up and down."

Exercise and meditation were my only reprieve from the crushing boredom. My cell was small and there were limited ways to exercise. I got creative. After awkwardly splashing around and almost drowning a few times, I taught myself to swim.

"I can swim, mother." I whispered into the dark as I broke the surface of the water. "I'm a very good swimmer."

Sometimes, I would plant my hands against the floor, and walk my legs up the wall. I'd handstand until I grew dizzy or my arms could take the burden no longer. I would set goals and challenges for myself. Eventually, I'd handstand without using the wall for support. I would walk up the wall with my hands on the floor, then when I was upright, I would walk my hands forward, supported only by my own strength and sense of balance.

"Every day, mother. It gets so much easier. I just remember -I am not the food. I am the shark."

And I _was_ the shark. Before long, I was no longer waiting for the fish to strand themselves when the tide went down. I was diving down into the dark water and snatching the fish up as they swam.

I studied every crack in every brick in the wall. As my grip strength grew stronger, I leaned how to grip any small imperfection in the bricks and hoist myself up and down the wall, scaling it like a spider. Soon, I could reach the ceiling grate even without the water.

The grate was useful for doing pull ups. I'd work my arms up and down, constantly growing stronger.

I learned which bricks were weak. I pushed against the wall with all my might, yearning for the outside world. The wall held strong. I wasn't ready to push it down. Not yet. More push-ups, more chin-ups and more swimming. I was growing stronger. The bricks were not. I could not kick them down today. I may not kick them down tomorrow, but I knew that some day I _will_ know the world outside this cell.

Once more I planted my hands against the bricks and pushed. Nothing. "It will fall, mother. One day, we know it has to fall."

As I grew older, I thought about the men who put me here and how much I hated them. The fat warden. The stupid guards. The useless doctor. And Puerco -how glad I was that he was dead. How glad I was that I killed him.

I wondered about my father. Who was he? Was he still alive? Why didn't he save me? Surely he must be dead.

As I grew older, I stopped fearing the ocean flooding my cell. I welcomed it, and the food it would provide.

My meditation grew more advanced. I learned to slow my breathing and heartbeat. My body might be trapped in this cell -for now, but my imagination knew no limits. These walls could not cage my mind. As I meditated, my mind travelled elsewhere. Sometimes I would go back to Puerco's cell and relive the memory of killing him. Sometimes I'd go back to Dr. Ruger's office and steal the knife all over again.

Often, I'd like to play out scenarios differently in my mind. One day, I might wait in Dr. Ruger's office and murder him with the knife when he returned to check on my head. Another day, I'd be in the fat warden's office and my bear Osito would grow giant and stamp on him.

Soon I was imagining worlds of my own creation. Vast deserts, lush forests and deep valleys. Sometimes my mastery over meditation could cause me to forget that I was ever trapped in a prison cell.

It was in one of my meditations that I encountered the bat again. This time was different. This time, he would not haunt me. This time I was meeting him on _my_ terms.

The world around us was a blood red pane. Sharp stalagmites reached up from the ground. A shallow river of blood flowed beneath my feet as the sun beamed down against the skin of my back. I marched through my imaginary red world, sword in hand as I knew the bat was nearby. I felt a slight pang of fear, but I pushed back against it. I needed to kill my fear.

I stalked my way around the corner of the cliff and I saw my enemy. The bat swooped, and I expertly weaved out of the way. I was older and stronger now. The bat begun to beat its leather wings, ready to strike at me again. I lunged forward and plunged my sword into it's chest up to the hilt. The bat screamed as it beat its wings, kicking up red sand all around us as I twisted the sword.

The bat fell against the ground as it died and I smiled. Finally. After all these years, after all these sleepless nights I had killed it.

A soft chirping interrupted my meditation and I opened my eyes.

I looked up at the bars in the grate above me and saw a yellow bird perched on the bars. I stared up at it in wonder. It had been so long, I had forgotten what a bird looked like. Forgotten what a bird sounded like. It was the first beautiful sound I had heard in years, so very different to the squeaking of rats or the foul fluttering of bats.

Amazingly, the bird fluttered down into my dark cell and hopped toward me.

My cheeks soon began to ache and I realised that for all my training and exercise, there were still muscles I had forgotten about. For the first time in years I was _smiling_. I had a visitor.

I gently reached my arm forward as the bird flapped into the air again, and rested itself on my hand.

I was fast and strong. I could kill this bird if I wanted. These past few years I'd eaten nothing but gruel, fish, crab and rat. I knew that the opportunity to taste bird might never come again, but I refused to hurt this beautiful creature. I decided that this bird was my guest -my first visitor in years. I noticed a small piece of paper tied to the bird's leg with a bit of string. I reached up with my other hand and untied the string, and unfolded the paper. On the paper was a crude sketch that I realised was a drawing of the bird. Beneath the sketch were four symbols. I could not yet read at this time, so I did not know the meaning of these four symbols.

I allowed the bird to rest on my hand, and I stared at my feathered visitor as I contemplated the meaning of the paper. For this bird to gift me with a drawing meant that there was another person outside my cell who was thinking about me and wanted to communicate. All these years and I was not forgotten. The bird stretched its wings out, preparing to take off and I raised my arm toward the ceiling grate and smiled as it took off into the sky above me. I promised myself that someday I would join the bird in the freedom of the outside world.

I continued to train as the days following grew into weeks, months and years. The visit from the bird was the only brief ray of hope that punctuated a ten year sentence of darkness and loneliness.

I knew every brick of this cell. I raised my now strong leg and slammed a vicious kicks against the wall. The wall shook and I was showered with dust.

"I swear, by the blood of my parents, -to avenge their deaths. By spending the rest of my life _conquering_ all criminals." I promised myself as I landed one kick after another against the wall. I ignored the pain in my leg as I watched the brick grow weaker and eventually shatter. I yanked the pieces loose and a shaft of sunlight shone in from the outside world.

It had taken me all this time to destroy one brick. I might be an old man by the time I destroy the entire wall, but if that was the cost of my freedom, then so be it. I thought back on the oath I just swore. When I got out, I _would_ conquer the criminals of this island. They taunted me when I was small, then threw me down this hole to die. I refused to die and now I was strong. When I got out, I would become king. I would become the strong man that appeared to me in my dream when I was a child. I had just destroyed one brick. There were hundreds more to go. If I had to, I would kick until my feet bled.

There was no need. With a deafening scrape the door swung open and for the first time in ten years, I saw men.

Five men marched into my cell -my home. I'd never felt so crowded.

"Well, look at the boy," one of the men sneered as he pointed at me. "He has grown." I recognised him immediately as the fat warden.

I said nothing in response, the light from outside burned my eyes.

"Look at him," another guard said, "all these years later, he's still an animal."

"Hands behind your back," a third guard snapped at me as he brandished a pair of cuffs.

I stepped forward. My ten year solitary confinement. Could it be over?

"I said, -you stupid fuck, put your hands behind your back!" the guard shoved me.

I did not appreciate being shoved, so I swung back at the guard with my fist. My fist connected with his jaw, and I saw blood spray from his mouth as a few teeth were knocked loose and rattled across the stone floor.

With that, the other guards were on me. It was four against one. Their fists rained down on my face and their truncheons beat at my body. Before long, my whole body was in agony and my hands were cuffed behind me. The warden stepped forward and gave me a sharp kick in the guts for good measure.

I was dragged out into the hallway outside the _Cavidad Oscuro. _After the beating I had just endured I could barely walk, but I was marched through the hall where I stood in front of an office.

The fat warden grabbed a fistful of my hair and turned me to face him. "I had hoped these past ten years in solitary confinement would cause you to reflect on your place here. But I see that you are still deranged. Still a bane to all good things."

I smiled as I heard that word again.

"Yes..." I spoke to the warden for the first time. "I am Bane."

The warden snorted. "Very well. 'Bane' shall be what we know you as from now on. What the world shall know you as. And the world _will_ soon know you, boy."

I stared blankly at the warden. I wondered the meaning of his words. "The world will know me?" I repeated back at him.

"Yes." He responded. "Your ten year solitary confinement is up. I must say, I am very surprised you are still alive. Grown men have gone mad and died in that tiny room. I am a man of my word, so very soon you will be released into general population again." He stepped closer and sneered at me again behind his moustache. "Puerco had friends, you know. I'm sure they cannot wait to meet you."

I clenched my fist in anger. This coward threw me into the _Cavidad Oscuro_ for ten years hoping I would die. Now he is hoping that Puerco's friends would finish me.

"But first," he continued. "I have allowed you to be interviewed by a journalist."

I said nothing in response.

"During your confinement," he continued "the nation of Santa Prisca has been through some... turbulent times. Rebellions are poking their heads out of the walls like rats. And the boy born and raised in this prison has become something of a curiosity to the people. I am willing to grant an interview with you to the newspaper to sate the people's curiosity."

Again I said nothing, but I suspected there was an ulterior motive for allowing me to speak with a journalist.

He raised a finger to the administration office. "So before your return to general population, before you are among Puerco's friends again, -you will go into that office and you will tell your story. Let the world know what happens to animals like you who break the rules of civilised society."


	8. Chapter 8 Secret Files

My whole body ached as I stood outside the administration office. One of my eyes was swollen shut. The fat warden gave me one last dirty look before disappearing through the doorway to speak to a man inside. I heard two muffled voices, but I could not make out what they were saying. I strained my hands against he cuffs behind my back. No good, I was not strong enough. Not yet. I glared at the four men around me, one by one. After ten long years, these cowards had ambushed me, four against one, and beaten me senseless.

Now, before I could resume my life in general population, I was expected to speak with a journalist. I was to be paraded in front of the world like an animal. One last humiliation before I had to face the friends of the man whom I had killed.

After a few minutes, the fat warden returned from the room and silently nodded to the guards. I was roughly marched into the room where I saw a man in a suit. The journalist. He was dressed sharply, and looked so very different to anyone I had met before. Until now, the only people who I had met in my life were other prisoners, or Pena Dura staff. This man instantly struck me as an outsider. He sat at a small table, a recording device in front of him. He did not look up as I entered the room.

"It's 0800 in Santa Prisca, a beautiful country in the Caribbean that has faced many years of ugly war. I am in Pena Dura prison.

I was seated in front of the man. Finally he looked up at me. He was approaching middle age with thick black hair, sideburns and a mustouche.

"This is Daniel Chirinos, on assignment for La Republica Daily News. I have been granted an interview by the warden with a teenage boy who has spent his entire life in prison. As is customary in this country, he's serving the sentence of his late insurgent father. This boy has just been released from a ten year confinement in solitary for killing another inmate, Jorge 'Puerco' Baptiste. An act that has earned the boy the name 'Bane.'

I stared silently as the man summed up my entire life in less than a minute.

"Bane is now about to be released into general population, where he will spend the rest of his life."

"What do you want?" I said, addressing the man.

Daniel Chirinos gave me a small smile. "To reveal your truth. To hear your story as you tell it. To learn your thoughts. Your dreams. Your fears. Simply to know you, Bane."

I grit my teeth in anger. The man's intentions were not meant with malice. He was not one of my captors. Still, I was trapped here and forced to share my secrets with him against my will. I was just as much a prisoner in this administration office as I was in the _Cavidad Obscuro_. My dreams? My fears? What had this man done to deserve such intimate trust from me? Worse yet, the recording device in front of me meant that my secrets would be shared with the entire world -a world that has done nothing for me save leaving me to rot in a flooded cell. I did not appreciate being paraded around as a curiosity. I looked back at the guards stationed at the door. I flexed against the chains at my wrists. I had no choice, I knew I would have to speak with this man, I would have to sate his curiosity about me. I also knew that given the chance, I would kill him. I was in chains before him, being picked at and interviewed like a specimen. I was in a position of weakness, and I had known since childhood that weakness -any weakness, any public display of vulnerability would eventually lead to death.

"Let's start with your childhood, shall we?" Daniel began.

I gave him a small nod.

"Firstly, I would like to state for the record the fact that you were born into this prison. You are serving a life sentence through no fault of your own. You are serving the sentence of your father for his part in the insurgency against the government. This is correct, yes?"

"Yes," I responded. Then curiosity got the better of me. "Do you know the identity of my father?" a shred of hopefulness in my voice, much as I might try to disguise it.

"I do not, I'm afraid. Record keeping has never been the strong suit of the Santa Priscan government. And as a journalist, I have limited access to government records at the best of times."

I sat silently. Perhaps I'd never know who my father was.

"What is your earliest memory?" he asked.

"My mother." I replied.

"Yes. My research has revealed that she died when you were very young. Do you remember anything of her medical treatment here in the prison?"

"Yes." I responded. "I remember the doctor being a drunk. I remember watching her condition get worse and worse each day, until she was dead."

Daniel nodded in respect. "I have heard that the medical facilities here are... lacking. The hygiene standards in the medical wing are appalling. You say the doctor was drunk?"

"Indeed he was. There was always a bottle of alcohol on his desk. I could smell it on him every time he spoke. I don't think he could have stopped drinking even if he wanted to. Perhaps in a way, he is a prisoner just as I am. He is a prisoner to his addictions."

Daniel paused for a moment as he took in my words. "You have a lot of wisdom for one so young. You are seventeen years old?"

"Correct."

"Well, it may interest you to know that in the ten years you were locked away, the prison has undergone a few changes. The medical wing has been expanded and upgraded. It's a lot cleaner, more professional. Some cutting edge research is being done right here in Santa Prisca. There is talk of new drugs being developed that will enhance human performance to levels never thought possible. It's only in the early stages, mind you."

I snorted. "They can work all the miracles they want in this new, upgraded medical lab. It will not bring my mother back."

"No. I am sorry."

"Your sympathies will not bring her back either."

We sat silently for an awkward moment before he spoke again. "Your condition... I can see that you have a black eye. There are cuts and bruises all over you. Are you okay?"

"I will live."

"What happened to you?"

"Minutes before this interview, I was beaten by four guards. After ten years in a small cell, these guards were the first human faces I saw. Then you."

"Again, I'm sorry you had to endure that, Bane. I assure you, I am no threat to you."

"Certainly not. It took four of them to take me down. And you are certainly not the physical equal to even one of them."

Daniel let out a polite laugh. "That is true. I do not have the physique to be a prison guard. Especially not in a place as brutal as this. Journalism has always been my passion, anyhow. You on the other hand... if you don't mind me saying so, for a teenage boy you have grown quite large. Looking at you, it comes to no surprise that it would take four guards to restrain you. Your own physique, I assume that is gift from your genetics?"

"Perhaps. I also exercised non-stop in my cell."

"I suppose you would need a way to pass the boredom over ten years."

"Yes, and it was necessary to become stronger. Otherwise I would not have survived those ten years."

"What do you mean? Surely you were protected from harm in your cell? Surely you were fed?"

"I was fed barely enough to survive. I was safe from other inmates yes. I was safe from the guards. But I was not safe from the rats or the crabs. I was not safe from the high tide that would flood the cell every night."

Daniel gasped in shock. "I knew the conditions of this prison left a lot to be desired... but I had no idea..."

"I grew stronger." I stated in response. "The conditions of my cell were demanding, so I met the demand. I learned to swim. I cannot tell you how many rats and crabs I have killed over the years. I realised early on that I had to rise with the tide, or die."

"Well, Bane. It seems that you are quite the survivor."

"Yes, it seems that way."

"I mentioned earlier that being a journalist is my passion. Do you have any passions? Anything you feel strongly about?"

"All I have known these past ten years, is meditation and exercise. Do I have any passion? I suppose my passion is to improve myself. I have grown strong these past ten years. But I am still not as strong as I would like. Someday, I would like to be strong enough that four guards cannot defeat me."

"Self-improvement is certainly a noble pursuit."

"I would also like to improve my mind." I paused for a moment, feeling perhaps a little guilt for oversharing, but admittedly enjoying this man's company. It was the first conversation I'd had in a decade. "I can meditate. I can sleep on command. I can slow my breathing and heartbeat. I have mastered my own body. But... I cannot read. I can count, but only to twelve. I feel that my time in isolation has stunted me. I would like to catch up to where I should be."

"I wish you the best of luck, my boy. You certainly seem to have a sharp mind, I'm sure you will do fine."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Your time in isolation was due to the murder of Jorge Baptiste."

"Purerco," I snorted in disgust.

"Yes, Puerco. Can you tell me, -tell the world, even, what would motivate you to commit such an act? You were a child, correct?"

"Correct. Puerco was a monster. At six years old I was placed in the cell next to him. He was obsessed with me. Wanted me to work for him."

"Six years old, and you were placed in a cell next to the infamous Puerco Baptiste?"

"Yes."

"Did you know that he was also serving a life sentence in Pena Dura for a series of rapes and murders?"

"The only thing I knew about him was that he lived to torment me. That he almost killed me."

"He almost killed you? Please elaborate."

"There was a fight with one of the other inmates. He used me as a shield and I was pushed through the bars of our platform. I fell three stories. I was told that it was a miracle I survived."

"My boy, I assure you that the world will be appalled that an innocent child had to endure such hellish conditions. This prison might be the only world you've ever known, but this type of upbringing... these conditions... it is far from normal. I'm publishing this article to shine a spotlight on these atrocities."

I sat silently again.

"Your time before the Cavidad Oscuro... do you remember much of it?"

"I remember seeing my first murder. Two other inmates bribed a guard to leave his post so they could kill a man."

"How old were you?"

"Six years old, if I remember correctly."

Daniel held his composure, but I suspected that underneath his calm demeanour he was more that a little disturbed. "The staff here. The guards. The doctors. Would you claim that they are corrupt?"

"Of course. I have seen with my own eyes that they will turn a blind eye to murder if you have the right money. Sadly, I did not have this kind of money when I was a child and I had to protect myself from Puerco."

"Do you have any other dreams or aspirations? Aside from improving your body and mind?"

I shrugged. "I have seen how the strong can overpower the weak. As I grow stronger, perhaps I can command the respect of my fellow criminals here. Or maybe I'll be killed tomorrow by one of Puerco's friends. Who knows. Maybe if my power and influence grows large enough, I can find out who my father was. What he did exactly, that was so heinous that his son has to serve out his sentence."

"I see. You desire power."

"I do. And if my power grows large enough, you should be wary Mr. Chirinos."

He sat back in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes. I am enjoying our conversation. You seem like a good man. But I do not appreciate the advantage you have me at here. I do not appreciate looking vulnerable or having my weakness shared with the world."

He leaned forward. "Bane, I assure you. My intentions here are for your best interest. I don't want to make you look weak. In fact I admire your strength. What I intend to do with this interview, is expose the corruption in the prison system here. The world needs to know the horrific childhood you were forced to endure, so that this type of barbarity can be exposed, and maybe someday, even corrected."

"Is the interview over?" I asked him.

"Yes, Bane."

"My story. My thoughts. My dreams. You have them all on your tape Mr. Chirinos."

"Yes," he replied. "But in all our conversation, we've avoided one particular topic. Your fears."

"My fears. Yes." I paused for a moment as I considered his enquiry. "I grew up behind bars. A prisoner all my life. I have witnessed many horrors. Most of my fears have already occurred and been conquered. But I have grown strong here. I have grown angry. And someday I will leave this place and unleash my rage upon the world. So I fear being free. I fear what I will do without walls to restrain me. And most of all, I fear there will be no one to stop me."

The door swung open and the fat warden entered the room. I suspect he had been listening to the whole interview.

"I think that is quite enough," he said as he glared at the two of us. "Mr. Chirinos, you will come with me. I would like to listen to your tape, and find out if the contents of your interview are suitable for sharing with the world."

"You agreed I could have this interview." Daniel Chirinos stated.

"I did. But I will not be made a fool of. If your intention here is to paint me or my prison in a bad light... I know the politicians here Chirinos. I have connections everywhere. I can make your story disappear. I can make _you_ disappear."

Daniel Chirinos sat for a moment. "Warden. I mean no disrespect here. I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement."

Satisfied, the fat warden turned to me. "And you. This interview is over. You will come with me. Your new life in general population begins today.


	9. Chapter 9 Conquest

My interview was over. I grit my teeth at the idea of my story -and my vulnerability to be shared with the world. This whole situation was overwhelming. My chest felt like a beating drum. An hour ago I was in the safety of the _Cavidad Oscuro._ For ten years, that tiny cell had been my home, my sanctuary. I'd been visited by a bird. Then my inner peace had been broken. Guards had come into my tiny cell, beaten me senseless and placed me in front of a journalist. Now, the rest of the world can hear the miserable story of my life and laugh. And now, I was going to be placed back into general population, to pick up my life where it left off when I was a child.

I felt the sharp blow of a guard's nightstick against my ribs as the marched me through the prison.

"Hurry up, you dumb animal!" He barked at me.

I shot him a look of hatred. I quickly recognized the source of his resentment. A large purple welt worn over his eye, a mark left by my fist after he invaded my cell and harassed me. He'd gotten his own back though. I reached up and touched the swollen skin over my own eye, a mirror image of his. The swelling had now sealed my eye shut completely, so I was half blind.

I couldn't see the guard whose teeth I had knocked out. He must have been taken off duty for medical care. I wasn't faring much better. The walk seemed to last forever, and it was difficult to keep pace with the guards. Their pace was brisk, and I hadn't walked anywhere for more than a decade now. My legs were also a mess after the vicious beating. Four against one. These cowards. My bare feet blistered as I marched down the stone hall, a sharp blow to my back or ribs would remind me to keep moving every time I lagged.

Eventually they led me into yet another administration office. Waiting for me was the fat warden, a smirk on his face.

"And how did you enjoy your interview?"

I said nothing.

"You are about to become quite famous. Does the thought not excite you?"

I stared at the round, arrogant man, still saying nothing. I was sure that any words of contempt would result in another beating, and contempt was all this man deserved.

"I am now going to return you to general population," he continued. "I expect you to behave. To follow the rules. Do you understand me? I swear, I will throw you back in that hole if you do not..."

I reluctantly gave him a nod.

"Very good." He turned toward an open door in the back of the room and shouted, "What is taking you so long, you idiot!"

"Apologies, sir," a familiar voice called back. "This inventory closet has been organised very poorly..."

I couldn't help but grin as I identified the voice.

"Hurry up!" the fat warden barked back. "We do not have all day! Find the boy's personal belongings and bring them here. Don't forget to bring him some clothes, too..." the warden cast a disproving eye at my child sized prison scrubs tied around my waist like a loincloth.

A few moments later, Zombie emerged from the inventory closet, returning my grin as he saw me. "My, you have grown..." The years had not been kind to Zombie. He was now completely bald, and skinnier than ever. I recognised his voice, but every word had a wheeze. Each syllable seemed to cost him great effort.

"Yes, I have grown."

"These should fit you." He dumped some new prison scrubs on the table in front of me. A guard stepped behind me and finally released me from my cuffs. I flexed my arms, they still ached from my beating and were still covered in bruises and welts. Zombie gasped as he saw my injuries. "My god... What happened to you?"

"The boy needed a lesson, is what happened to him!" the fat warden barked. He then gave a cruel smirk. "Don't forget to give the boy his personal affects."

Zombie shot me an apologetic look. "Of course." He then placed my childhood teddy bear on the table. Osioto.

The fat warden chuckled. "Make sure you do not forget to take this bear with you, boy! You may find that he will be your only friend!"

The other guards joined the warden in their cruel laughter.

I said nothing, and with a swift motion, I tossed my filthy loincloth to the floor and begun the change into my new prison scubs.

"Disgusting... one of the guards muttered as he looked away. The boy has no shame..."

Zombie laughed, a dry cackle. "Usually we afford you a bit of privacy to get dressed..."

"I do not care." I stated. "It has been years since I have had clothes that fit." I turned to the warden. "I am ready to return to general population now."

The fat warden stepped forward and gestured to Osioto on the table. "Don't forget to bring your friend."

I snorted. The resentment he felt towards me was clear. I had not died in the _Cavidad Obscuro_, so now he was returning me to general population. And he wanted to emasculate me by making me walk there holding my childhood teddy bear. "Thank you, but I am fine," I responded.

"I insist," he pointed at the bear again. "Take him with you."

"No." I stepped forward and balled my hand into a fist. I was already injured and exhausted. I don't know if I could survive another beating. But if I had to die here in this office, perhaps it would be a good death if I could wipe the smug smile from the warden's nasty face.

Zombie stepped toward me. "Take the bear."

I looked at him, feeling little betrayed that he would side with the warden in humiliating me.

He returned my gaze... his eyes pleading a little. "Please... I think you should take it. God knows it took me long enough to find back there," he pointed his thumb back to the inventory closet and gave me a wink.

I reached forward to pick up Osioto with one hand... and the head started to come loose.

"Careful..." Zombie cautioned me. "He's a bit fragile."

I reached for him again, this time with both hands, and I instantly understood why Zombie had wanted me to take my childhood teddy bear. Osioto was heavy. Much heavier than a small bear should be. I grinned again, and Zombie responded with a wink.

I was then marched through the winding hallway back to general population. I felt dizzy and nauseous as the narrow hallway opened up. I did not realise this at the time, but after ten years alone in a tiny cell, I was now suffering from agoraphobia -the fear of open spaces. As soon as I entered the large room of general population, I saw a dozens other faces, all hardened criminals. I'd never seen so many people crammed into one space before. Sweat broke out on my brow. Here I was, marched along by the guards, barely able to keep up due to my injuries. I was holding a teddy bear. I was exposed. I was a joke. For years, I thought I was building my strength, but now I felt weak. I braced myself for the familiar taunts and threats these men had hurled at me as a child. And yet none came. Instead was silence, only interrupted by my footsteps as the guards marched me through these men.

Finally, someone spoke. "The kid survived!" someone shouted. Someone else let out a sharp whistle, that was followed by another. Then a few men started clapping. Some started cheering. I was speechless. This... this was not the reception that I was expecting.

As punishment, the warden gave me another sharp blow to the ribs. "Hurry along..." he hissed at me. "I have chosen your new cell myself."

We passed through the crowd, up a few flights of stairs and the guards unlocked my new cell -my new home. I noticed that the bed was a bunk bed. I placed Osioto down on the lower bed.

"Pena Dura has become more crowded since you were locked away," the fat warden explained to me. "We have had to double up many of the cells. So you will be sharing. An old friend of Puerco's I believe. I'm sure you two will have much to talk about. The door slammed behind me as I sat on the bed.

I sat silently as the hours passed. I could hear the men outside would talking, laughing, fighting. Occasional barking orders from the guards. I was told that I could join the men if I wanted, that these few hours were my recreational time. I'd rather keep to my cell. For now, the outside world was too loud, too overwhelming. My whole body still ached from the vicious beating I'd endured in the _Cavidad Obscuro_, then the continuous beating I'd endured the whole way to my new cell, -punishment for lagging behind.

When the guards were ready to lock us down for the night, another man entered my cell. I refused to even look at him as he climbed up to the bunk above me. I could hear his steady breathing as he waited for the guards to lock us in and then leave the area. Finally he spoke to me.

"Hello, child."

I refused to respond.

He climbed down from the bunk and tore the blanket from me. He looked at Osioto and laughed. "This one is cute," he said as he pointed to Osioto.

I leapt to my feet and stared down my cellmate. He was fat like Puerco was, but taller. He looked like he had some muscle hiding under the fat. The top of his head had long since gone bald, but long, thick hair hung around the perimeter of his head. "What do you want?" I barked at him.

"I want to know my cellmate."

"I am Bane." I shot back at him.

He laughed. "Bane? That is very cute. Your bear is very cute. I think _you_ are very cute." He stepped closer to me.

"Get away from me, you pervert," I snapped back at him. I am ashamed to say I felt fear in my voice.

"Puerco was my friend, child. You killed him. That means you owe me something." He stepped closer again. "Get on your knees, boy."

I shoved him. He shoved back. He was older, taller, more confident and perhaps a little stronger. He was certainly more brutal. He slammed my head against the stone wall. Perhaps I would have stood a better chance if I had not been recovering from a brutal beating earlier that day. This man saw my weakness and would now take advantage of it. He slammed a fist into my face. I swung back. I grabbed a handful of my hair and beat my face against the wall again and again. The room spun around me. I could no longer fight back. Not properly, anyway.

His fingers tightened around my throat from behind as I gasped for air. "You understand you are powerless," he whispered to me. "You understand that I own you." It wasn't a question. He twisted one arm behind my back as my other arm groped around desperate for a weapon. I grabbed Osioto and pulled him to me. The vile man chuckled. "I give you pain or I give you life. I am your world, child. Do you understand?" I felt his breath against my ear.

"I understand." I replied. With my free hand I twisted Osioto's head clean off to reveal the knife that was hidden beneath. I silently thanked Zombie for hiding the knife for me, for insisting that I take the bear with me. I slammed the knife into my cellmate's foot and he screamed as he released his grip. I pushed him back and lunged again with the knife. He slammed his fist into my jaw. I slammed the knife into his neck. He was taller, stronger and in better condition. I had a knife. My blows did more damage than his. By the end of it, I was hurt, but he was dead.

My second kill. My second human kill, anyway. I stood over his body and pondered what this meant. Would I be sent back the the _Cavidad Obscuro_, this time to die? Ten years I'd spent in that tiny cell. I survived, and perhaps now I would have to go back there. My whole body shook as I contemplated the injustice of this situation. I drew in a ragged breath as pain throbbed through me. My whole body was a giant bruise. Everything that had happened today was too much to bear. The guards. The beatings. The interview. This vile man and the punishment that was sure to follow. I felt the tears fill my eyes and I was powerless to hold them back. In that moment I hated myself.

I heard footsteps approach my cell. I didn't even bother to turn around. All this pain, all this trauma had finally worn me down. If the fat warden wanted to kill me now, I would not resist. I didn't have it in me any more.

I heard a click, and my cell door scraped open. I closed my eyes and waited for the rain of fists, of nightsticks. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Boy," a voice whispered.

I turned around sharply. It was not a guard. It was not the fat warden. It took me a few moments to recognise the man who had entered my cell. He was older now, but still strong, still ugly and still fierce. It was Trogg, the large man who had fought with Puerco on the day I had been knocked into a coma. Behind him was Zombie, standing guard at the door stoicly.

Trogg gestured to the corpse in my cell. "We will take care of this... vile pig." He pulled me to my feet, but I could barely stand. I took one step towards him before I collapsed again. Before I hit the floor, he caught me with a thick arm. He helped me to my feet and walked me out of the cell, past Zombie. Zombie and Trogg looked at each other, and Trogg gave Zombie a quick nod. Zombie picked up my cellmate by the feet and begun to drag him out of the cell.

"Come with us," Trogg said to me. "Come with us and be safe."


	10. Chapter 10 Vengeance of Bane

The silence in the air was punctuated only be the sound of the ticking clock on the wall of the warden's office. The fat warden sat in front of me fuming, his hatred for me evident on his face. Trogg and Zombie stood behind me.

"Tell me again," he demanded. "How your cellmate died."

"Suicide." I answered, sticking to the story Trogg had given me.

"The kid is telling the truth," said Trogg.

"We found him hanging from the railing by his bed-sheets," Zombie wheezed in agreement.

"Suicide." The warden scoffed. "How very convenient for you. And how do you explain the stab wounds?"

I shrugged. "I have no explanation. Perhaps your men should do a better job of securing the cells."

The fat warden slammed his fist on the table. "I think you are a liar, boy. I think you killed him and I think you are trying to undermine me."

"Sir," Zombie interjected. "The boy has only been released from solitary for one day. We were both there when he collected his personal items and went to his cell. He only had the teddy bear. He had no weapon."

The fat warden grit his teeth. He could not argue with this. "The man has been locked away here for years, he's never tried to kill himself before. And he only considers suicide now? On the very first night he shares a cell with this... _Bane_?"

"Perhaps he was scared." Trogg suggested. He gave me a small grin. "Perhaps he was scared to share a cell with the boy who survived the _Cavidad Obscuro_. The boy _did_ kill Puerco, and he did that as a mere child. It's possible he went mad with fear. By locking the boy away for so long... you have given him quite the reputation."

The warden exhaled angrily through his nose. "The stab wounds. The same way he killed Puerco..."

"You searched the cell," said Zombie. "There was no weapon."

"This is true," the warden admitted.

I sat and said nothing. But I was filled with gratitude. Trogg had taken me back to his own cell with the knife. He gave me this story for the warden, then tossed the knife out of his window into the ocean below. Zombie had dragged Puerco's already dead friend out of the cell, cleaned the blood from the floor, tied a noose around his neck with the bed-sheets and dropped the corpse from the railing where it dangled in a parody of suicide. There was no way of explaining the stab wounds, so we pleaded ignorance.

The fat warden leaned forward and peered at me. "Your wounds a fresh, boy."

"Your men beat me when they removed me from the _Cavidad Obscuro_." I responded.

"Yes, they did. But that mark on your head. They didn't do that. You've been bashed against the wall. I knew Puerco's friend wouldn't like you."

"And yet you put him in that cell anyway," Trogg snapped accusingly.

"Would you tell me how to run this prison, Trogg?" the warden snapped back.

There was a tense moment before Trogg relented. "Not at all, sir. But putting these two together... something was bound to happen."

Zombie cleared his throat before he spoke. "I don't think any of us could have guessed the effect that the boy's reputation would have after all these years. He survived the _Cavidad Obscuro_. He has grown tall and strong. I don't think you will find many who would want to share a cell with him. Some people say he's an animal."

"Yes," the warden agreed. "He always had a feral instinct, even as a child."

Zombie let out a chuckle. "Then there was the way he stripped off and changed right in front of us."

The warden snorted. "Disgusting. The boy has no shame. No dignity."

"You think I am an animal?" I snapped. "I have spent most of my life in a tiny cage."

"What should we do with you?" the warden wondered out loud. "I cannot have the other prisoners killing themselves left and right."

"Of course not," Trogg agreed sarcastically. "It might make this place seem inhumane."

The warden just glared.

"If I may..." Zombie spoke again. "Perhaps the boy needs some adjusting. You could have him see Father Orestes."

"Yes," the fat warden agreed. "That old fool... perhaps he could teach the boy some manners."

"If the other inmates could see young Bane spending time with Father Orestes... perhaps they wouldn't be so scared of him," Zombie suggested.

"Yes... we could kill the legend surrounding this boy," the warden mused out loud. I was impressed at Zombie's ability to manipulate this man by appealing to his vanity. It was a skill I would have to learn.

"The boy is hurt," said Trogg as he folded his arms. "Your men did a number on him. He will need medical attention."

"I will send you to see Dr. Ruger, boy," the fat warded addressed me.

"Ugh. I'd rather die," I responded.

"That fate may still await you," said the warden with a smug smirk. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Dr. Ruger will patch you up. I will arrange for Father Orestes to see you regularly. I listened to your interview. You wish to learn to read?"

I hated the warden for knowing my secret desires. I hated the journalist Daniel Chirinos for sharing my secrets with him.

"You will learn how to read," the warden promised me. "You will learn mathematics. But most importantly of all, you will learn manners. You will learn to behave like a person."

"Are we done here?" I asked him.

"Yes, we are done. I am not fully convinced that your cellmate killed himself. But since I cannot prove otherwise, I will not return you to the _Cavidad Obscuro_. Not today at least." The warden picked up a radio. "Guards, please escort young Bane to Dr. Ruger's office for medical attention. Zombie, you may go with him. I'm sure Ruger has some blood or shit or pus that needs mopping up. Trogg, thank you for your testimony. Now get the fuck out of my sight."


End file.
